


Strange Bedfellows

by misanthropiclycanthrope



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 08:05:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19764010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misanthropiclycanthrope/pseuds/misanthropiclycanthrope
Summary: It wasn’t every morning one woke to find a snake sharing one’s bed, demonic or otherwise.





	Strange Bedfellows

**Author's Note:**

> Someone made the mistake of showing me fanart of Aziraphale cuddling with serpent!Crowley at 2am. This is the result.
> 
> Go view the image (and Aiwa's other gorgeous art) [here!](https://aiwa-sensei.tumblr.com/post/186191866830/sssssssnooze-a-request-from-one-of-my-supporters)

Aziraphale stirred as the first weak rays of sunlight crept through the chinks in the curtains. He still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of sleep, and was prone to waking at first light, even in the depths of winter, whenever he did make the effort.

It was all down to Crowley, of course. The demon had spent a good many evenings extolling the virtues (he avoided referring to Sloth in any way) of a decent night’s rest, moved on to pointing out that the book would still be there in the morning and would give him something to look forward to, and then finally resorted to admitting that it was cold in bed with no one to snuggle up to.

That was the argument Aziraphale had been unable to resist.

And so he had capitulated, and every now and again (rather more often than not, as Crowley _was_ rather partial to a good sleep) Aziraphale allowed himself to be cajoled into bed.

(He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he had become incredibly fond of waking to find Crowley pressed against him, his face full of flame red hair, legs entwined, and very little actual cajoling was needed any more.)

On this particular morning, he slowly came to realise that something was different. There were no ridiculously long limbs slung over his body, no mop of hair tickling his nose. Instead, his right leg felt like it had been loosely bound by some kind of rope, and there was a strange weight pressed across his hips, a lump resting in the centre of his chest. He pushed the duvet back, only to find himself looking down at the head of a large serpent.

He jerked in surprise, his sleep fogged brain making the connection just in time to prevent the scream leaving his lips.

“Oh, good lord.”

Golden eyes flickered open, head raising just enough to glare at the disturbance and if a snake was able to look aggrieved, this one managed it.

“Nope. Jusss me. An’ I'm trying to sssleep.”

Aziraphale thought his reaction perfectly understandable, given the circumstances. It wasn’t every morning one woke to find a snake sharing one’s bed, demonic or otherwise. “You gave me rather a shock!”

“Sssorry.” He did at least sound contrite. “Wasss cold.”

“We can cuddle with you in your other form,” Aziraphale reasoned, quite logically he thought. “Or I could miracle up another blanket.”

Crowley’s head swayed, as if he were weighing up the options. “Can be clossser like thisss.”

Oh. He hadn’t considered that. Of course it made sense that Crowley would seek out heat, that he’d try to establish as much bodily contact as possible, make the most of the heat Aziraphale provided.

“You want me to change back?”

“No, no,” Aziraphale hastened to assure him, worried Crowley had misinterpreted his silence as disapproval. “Not if you’re comfortable like this.”

“Sssure?”

Aziraphale smiled, touched at the consideration, and wanting to reassure Crowley it was perfectly alright. “Yes, my dear boy. Now, go back to sleep.”

Crowley stared at him a moment longer, then turned away, his sinuous body looping back on itself. Aziraphale assumed he was curling into a different position, only to jump in surprise when he felt Crowley’s head slip beneath the hem of his nightshirt and make its way over his stomach and back up his chest, until his nose peeked out of the collar.

“Oh my!”

“Isss thisss okay?”

Aziraphale blinked, taking a moment to adjust to the feeling of smooth scales flush against his skin. It was… Certainly not disagreeable. In fact, it was really rather pleasant.

“Oh, yes. Very much so.”

A forked tongue flickered out, tasting the air a fraction of an inch from Aziraphale’s lips. Crowley was rather too pleased with himself, but Aziraphale was too content to complain.

They fell back into sleep, Crowley’s snout pressed against Aziraphale's neck, and Aziraphale’s hand finding a home atop the coil of Crowley’s long body resting over his hip.


End file.
